Before the Storm
by Angel Leviathan
Summary: She hated religion. She really did. Ridiculous feast days. How in the hell did the self reflective nature of such events work on those who didn’t believe?


Title: Before the Storm

Author: Angel Leviathan

Disclaimer: Wicked, characters, concept, etc, aren't mine.

Spoilers: Whole book.

Notes: Bookverse. Set after Nessa is given the shoes and the 'breaking curfew' scene where Elphaba sings. Feedback would be appreciated, I've worked really hard on this and tried to keep it as canon as possible. There is one thing I've altered, regarding Ama Clutch, because I don't think Glinda would have been so heartless as to _never_ visit her.

-

She had wanted an excuse to wear her new boots all year. She had brought them from home especially and had been longing for the winter at Shiz to get just that little bit colder (though not too cold) for it to be perfect snow weather. Now, unfortunately for Glinda, she had got her wish. It had been snowing for days, which had initially been fun, entertaining, and an excellent excuse to wear her pastel blue snow-boots, but was now boring, frustrating, and the cause of her current distress.

If only she had left those few days earlier!

Last Lurlinemas, _Galinda's_ greatest concern had been what gifts to buy the Misses Pfannee and Shenshen; something that said she had money and that she could have spent more but wasn't overly showy. This year, _Glinda _was merely a little alarmed at being snowed in at Shiz with Elphaba and Nessarose and not making it back to Frottica for the Lurlinemas celebrations.

It was her own fault, she supposed. She had been waiting to leave at a time that was early enough to still be socially acceptable and late enough to seem studious. Miss Pfannee had left the evening classes had finished for the holidays, and, on seeing the unimpressed expression on Madame Morrible's features as she waved her student off, Glinda had thought it wise to wait a few days, so as not to be on the receiving end of the headmistress' disapproval. Miss Shenshen had left a day after Pfannee and even Miss Milla had had the sense to leave before the sky changed and the snow began to fall.

Even Nanny had received a letter that morning, delayed by a few days thanks to the weather, from Nessarose and Elphaba's father requesting that she see the girls (Nessa at least) home safely as soon as possible. Elphaba had seemed unimpressed at the summons, whilst Nessa had begun bemoaning the fact that she wasn't to see her father for the holidays. That had confused even Glinda; for why was Nessa worried about missing a holiday for a pagan goddess she didn't even believe in? She had half expected the younger of the Thropp sisters to continue studying in protest whilst the celebrations continued around her. She could just imagine the scene in the Thropp household – Nanny lighting candles and hanging decorations, Elphaba half-heartedly assisting her, offering a token protest here and there, whilst Nessa and her father prayed for forgiveness and deliverance from such blasphemous behaviour, the younger boy creating havoc all around the whole while.

Glinda pulled a dog-eared letter from her pocket and read it once more, wiping away a tear that, for once, was not theatrical. She should have listened to her parents and allowed them to arrange transport home for her as soon as lectures had finished. She could just see her beautiful home all decked out with sparkling baubles and candles tall enough to last for both Lurlinemas Eve and the day of Lurlinemas itself. As a child, she had been fascinated by such candles, thinking it a feat of magic that they lasted for two days straight. Now she knew better, of course, but that didn't stop the warm glow she felt as she gazed upon the candles each year. Glinda carefully folded the letter back up, pausing for a moment more to smile at the cursive script of her mother, and shoved it back in her pocket. Well, she had made an error in judgement and she was going to have to live with it. It would be a learning experience. She was an adult now and she had to learn to live with the consequences of her actions, or lack thereof.

There was nothing she could do, she told herself. She was going to spend Lurlinemas at Shiz and she was going to smile and bear it. She knew some students didn't go home for any holidays (how did they cope?) so meals and housekeeping had to continue through until the beginning of term. She would make the best of it. She had to.

Glinda slid off her bed and knelt gingerly on the floor, careful to keep her skirts tidy, and reached to drag a reasonably sized box out from under her bed. She had been hiding Lurlinemas presents in it since the summer. She always liked to get her shopping done early. There was no good sense in running around the shops and vendors on Lurlinemas Eve like some kind of madwoman. What kind of message would that send? A woman of her rank had to have good organisational skills. It was common sense, surely. Glinda gently prised the lid off the box, setting it aside with the grace of someone making a presentation. She purposefully ignored the small gifts she had bought her parents (she would have, of course, bought something a little grander to go with them once she reached home) and rummaged around for a moment amongst the gifts she had purchased for her friends from home, those girls who had been content to be a trophy wife with no education (for what need would they have for it?). She raised a set of crystal earrings in a clear presentation box to the light, admiring them. Well, they were going to go to waste. She wasn't going to look a fool and give presents after Lurlinemas. They would know of her predicament and act accordingly with regard to gifts. Still, the earrings were pretty. Beautiful, even. Perhaps she should keep them for herself. She sighed. There were so many delicate, expensive, items in the box. Happy Lurlinemas, Glinda, she mused, ironically. Perhaps her parents would send her a few gifts in the hope that they would reach Shiz.

"What _are_ you doing down there?"

Glinda almost jumped, but made herself quickly jam the lid back on the box and shove it under her bed, "Just ensuring I have adequate footwear to survive this freak weather we're enduring."

"I thought all your shoes were in their organised piles in the wardrobe," Elphaba commented, clambering onto her bed, and exhaled loudly, as if exhausted.

"They are," she nodded, trying to save her logic, "There are just a few not out of their boxes yet."

"I suppose I should have seen that one coming," the dark haired girl arranged herself and dragged a book from her bag.

"Where's Nessa?" Glinda questioned, trying to change the subject.

"With Nanny. Apparently if I cannot indulge in genuine belief in her prayers then I should not be present for them," Elphaba didn't seem impressed or that affected by her sister's behaviour, "Nanny's mumblings are excused, of course."

"Prayers? I would have thought she would prefer to pray in privacy…"

"Her? Never. But apparently she's praying for deliverance from the snowstorm, that the Unnamed God might protect and shelter us during this terrible time, and that seems to require her suffering said snowstorm in an alcove just outside…"

"She's what?" Glinda stared.

She shrugged, "Knowledge and deliverance through suffering, or something to that effect. Seems like just an excuse to me, I mean, that way people are content to keep suffering because they're so determined they're going to learn from it," she stopped herself before she launched into a rant good and proper. She narrowed her eyes, concerned for a moment, "And I couldn't exactly stop her…" the fact that she could not go out into the snow without risking great pain went unspoken, "Or talk her out of it…"

"Is Nanny-"

"With her in the alcove, yes. And she will have far greater luck at persuading dear Nessie than I."

Glinda perched back on her bed, "…Is her devotion not a little…"

"Extreme? Our Nessa has always been nothing if not extreme, in everything she does," Elphaba shook her head, "She's perfectly safe. The snow's actually dying down a little now. If she or Nanny were in any real danger-"

"You wouldn't have let them go outside."

She hesitated, "…Precisely."

The blonde folded her legs beneath her, arranging her skirts about her, "Well…there are only two days until Lurlinemas…" she sighed, careful to make the comment seem casual and not a desperate attempt to broach the subject.

Elphaba was flicking idly through the pages of her book, "Indeed."

"…What do you suggest we do?" she pretended great interest in her fingernails.

Her roommate looked up, "Do?" she repeated.

"It _is_ supposed to be a celebration."

"Though the charter was Unionist, Shiz is devoted to no particular religion. Students only get the week off because Lurlinemas is accepted as an Oz-wide holiday."

"Everyone has gone home. They won't care whether we celebrate or not," Glinda countered.

Elphaba arched an eyebrow and looked back down at her book.

"Most people have gone home," she amended. She sighed, "I'm not suggesting we throw some big party and make everyone stuck here join in…it just…it seems wrong to let the holiday go by unnoticed."

"I didn't think you were the religious sort."

"I'm not," Glinda frowned, "Usually. But some holidays are special and deserve to be noted. Haven't you ever celebrated Lurlinemas? I assumed with Nanny-"

"Nanny is generally made to keep her devotion to Lurline silent," the book was closed abruptly and its owner sat up a little straighter, "Father doesn't approve, and Nessa…well, I suppose that needs no explaining. Father generally takes Lurlinemas as an opportunity to preach to sinners and assure them he can save them all from their terrible pagan religion," Elphaba was staring off into the distance, eyes glazed over, "Nanny always buys candles and lights them in her room. It wouldn't do to have candles seen lit in the windows, so Father says, he fears sullying his reputation," she smiled faintly, "When I was little, Nanny would let me hold a candle or two, always when Father wasn't looking. She still brings me a little gift each Lurlinemas, even though I've told her I don't believe and Nessa verbally attacks her for it."

"Does Nessa just-"

"Loses herself in her prayers and wills herself away from a house of sinners. She used to like the candles when she was little, before she knew what they meant…but that was a long time ago."

"That doesn't sound very…"

"Harmonious? No, I suppose not. We don't seem to excel at harmony, we Thropps."

Glinda jumped down from her bed, "Well, you've got one of the Arduennas amongst you now and this year you'll have to humour her and let her have her Lurlinemas."

Elphaba seemed amused, "Nanny will think you to be the daughter she never had."

Her companion was staring right past her, right out the windows, looking a little unnerved, "Elphie…"

She frowned and made a point of not looking, "What?"

"It's stopped snowing…" Glinda slowly approached the windows, standing on tiptoe to peer out. She dragged a cautious hand across the glass to clear the view, "It's really stopped snowing…" she glanced back over her shoulder, "You don't think…Nessa…?"

Elphaba immediately shook her head, dismissing the idea, "It is easier to let our Nessarose believe she is holy because she will not be dissuaded, but I see no point in actively encouraging her to believe so because it ceased to snow when she asked her precious Unnamed God to come to her aid."

She paused, as if mulling the words over. Her eyebrows knit as another explanation hit her, a concept more disturbing than her first suggestion, "But…you don't think…_Nessa_…"

The green girl's eyes widened, "Really, you must be running a fever. She might will things to occur but it doesn't mean they will happen. Be content with it being a coincidence." She almost shivered. The very idea that her sister had the ability to…

"Elphaba! Look, isn't it wonderful?" Nessa made her presence known in the room, Nanny at her heels, "Our prayers have been answered!"

"Your prayers, Nessie dear," Elphaba was heard to mumble.

"A shame it's too late to even think of heading home in this weather. It's difficult enough as it is to get into the town centre these days… A shame indeed that the snow didn't stop a couple of days earlier than it has. I hear it's at least three times the price for passage to anywhere, considering now people are risking their necks in ferrying people about," Nanny commented.

Glinda remained silent, gazing out the window. She shoved aside the thought that her parents would have paid such a price to have her home for Lurlinemas. There was no way to get her letter back now, they knew she would be staying, albeit reluctantly. If her letter had even made it home. There was no point in running out into the snow in the hope that the trains were suddenly running again and that there were suitable carriage persons to drive her on the journeys to and from the stations. She had to be content with what she had. She had to make do. She was warm, sheltered, and she had company. She would have to get by.

She exhaled sharply and tried a smile, "I could do with a cup of hot tea. I'll go see if the refectory are still serving," she headed across the room, "Any requests?" Glinda asked.

"No, dearie, thank you," Nanny replied.

Nessa shook her head, now staring out through the windows in much the same manner Glinda had been a few moments ago.

"No, thank you," Elphaba responded, eyes never leaving her roommate as she made her escape. She sighed deeply; no matter how much Glinda tried to throw herself into things, she knew the young Gillikinese woman would rather be anywhere but Shiz for Lurlinemas, and, for all she knew, with anyone but them. They weren't exactly the perkiest bunch to spend the holidays with. From the barest snatches of information she knew of Glinda's family, she had assumed that they were close (she hoped _that_ was not false togetherness under the pretence of the upper class united front). It was hardly the same to be spending precious family time with her roommate, argumentative sister, and their old minder.

No, not the same at all.

Being not exactly on conversational terms as the Lurlinemas holidays had approached during their first year of Shiz, she and the then Galinda hadn't even bothered to exchange glad tidings (which she would have mocked anyway) let alone gifts. Well, Elphaba thought, very quietly, that wasn't entirely true, but it wasn't exactly false either.

She opened her book once more and resumed her reading, with no words of greeting or conversation to Nessa or Nanny. She knew her sister was already lost in a world of thanks to a nameless deity and Nanny wondering what in Oz she could do about her charge's devotion. Thinking, Elphaba decided, was the theme of the moment, and so she joined them, albeit on a different subject. She made every effort to ignore the unbidden image of the dull eyes and waif-like appearance of the blonde girl she had grown to love so much.

-

The truth was, Glinda needed the distraction. She didn't want to go home because she could, she wanted to escape the mayhem her life had become in a few short months. During the summer she had been sunning herself on verandas and sipping tea, now one of her teachers had been murdered (supposedly) and her dear Ama had been taken ill with a disease she had made up herself. Glinda hadn't told her parents about Ama Clutch. She had no idea how to phrase such news in a letter. One of the reasons she had wanted to go home was to inform her mother and father of her Ama's status and somehow relieve her guilt.

Glinda mumbled a thank you to one of the servers still on duty as she claimed her cup of tea. She noticed it was more of a bowl-like mug than a delicate cup, and raised her head and smiled gratefully. She must look rather devastated to be getting special treatment for no good reason, she thought. Thereafter she kept her eyes on the floor until she found a table at the back of the refectory, far away from anyone else or any remaining social groups. She sighed and kicked up her feet onto the chair opposite as she sat down, careful to keep the skirts of her dress around her in a ladylike manner. She gave herself a mental kick for that. It was so much easier to think of etiquette and other ridiculous things than what was really troubling her.

"Alright, Glinda, you can have your Lurlinemas."

She looked up from the tabletop to see Elphaba seated across from her, not quite opposite.

"I can't say I'll join in any ridiculous dancing or offer up any prayers, but I won't stop you. I'll do my best to keep dear Nessie quiet and if I know Nanny, you'll have her full support. You deserve a break, no matter how short. It's been a difficult year…" Elphaba narrowed her eyes a little, as if uncertain how to continue, "…And you are stronger for it, no matter what you believe. I'm proud of you. I can't see Pfannee or Shenshen handling everything this well. They would have gone crying home to their parents by now."

Glinda decided not to say that running home to her parents had been exactly what she had wanted to do. She remained silent and bobbed her head in response.

"You had better ask Nanny to get some more candles when she 'secretly' goes out to buy her own."

"I'll go with her," she stated.

Elphaba raised an eyebrow for a brief second at that. She had never thought of Glinda voluntarily going shopping with Nanny alone.

She took a sip of her tea, keeping the mug between her palms, trying to warm her hands, "…Elphaba?"

Her companion tilted her head, quizzically.

"On Lurlinemas Eve. Can you help me with something?"

"Anything."

"…I want to see Ama Clutch. I've abandoned her, poor dear, and I… She's taken care of me all my life and I won't even go visit her," Glinda said softly.

"It's understandable," Elphaba reassured her.

"It's bad manners. It's bad…well, everything…"

"We'll go see her. I'm sure she knows I'm there when I visit…on some level. We'll take her something," she smiled slightly, "Something gaudy. She'll like that."

Glinda returned the smile for a moment, "I'll never understand the Pleasure Faith."

"Nor I, my dear, but at least they enjoy it, I suppose."

"Nessa might say she believes in the Unnamed God, but those shoes your father made for her… I swear she enjoys them too much for a person of such strong religious leanings…"

Elphaba's expression darkened a little at the mention of the shoes, "Father wants Nessa to be happy. We are his curses, you see, he blames himself for our…afflictions…and in some way I think he blames himself for Nessa's religious ravings. He might believe as vehemently as she, but even he can see the damage too much faith does her… Sometimes I think he gives her these little things to remind her she is still a girl and not a saint. He loves her."

"And you?"

"I don't need pretty things. I've never had them. I suppose the by-product of this is that I am pleased Nessie is happy, which in turn, makes me…"

"But are you? Happy, I mean," Glinda pressed.

She frowned, "I'm content that she's happy. That is how it's always been. People in this world have a lot less and a lot more. I have Nessie and Father, ravings and all, Shell, whatever kind of hellion he is turning into, Nanny, my books, an education, roof over my head… and I have you. If that is what it is to be happy, then yes…I am happy."

Despite her own misfortunes, Glinda wasn't convinced that her friend was happy. On some level she was even sure that Elphaba didn't _want_ to be happy. Then again, she supposed, her definition of 'happy' and Elphaba's would differ greatly. Maybe not so much since the summer, but still.

It was Elphaba who glanced across the room and out of one of the huge windows and noticed it had started snowing again. She gave an internal sigh of relief. There was just no telling what might happen if Nessa really had, or even an inkling of a suggestion that she had, the kind of power to stop freak weather at will. Glinda was the sorceress amongst them. Nessa could do without the belief she had power beyond her supposed holiness.

Glinda noticed the relief in her friend's eyes and relaxed a little herself. She might not appreciate the snow any longer, but even she was thankful that the idea of the younger of the Thropp girls having some hidden, innate, ability could be put safely out of her mind.

-

The next morning, bundled up with many layers of clothing to protect her from the cold, Glinda slowly made the journey into the town centre with Nanny, both of them taking small steps so as not to slip and crash to the ground. Thankfully, the snow had stopped again, but there was more than one occasion when the pair had to cling to each other to stay upright.

Elphaba was back at the university with Nessa, the sisters propped together on her bed, reading. Every few minutes, Nessa would ask for the page to be turned and Elphaba would dutifully comply, barely looking away from her own book. They would not comment on the content of each others' reading. It was one of the few activities they could do together in a companionable silence that didn't involve one of them being irritated in some way by the other.

Glinda technically had no presents to buy, except maybe something for Nanny (the only one to show complete solidarity for the celebration of Lurlinemas to occur) and 'something gaudy' as Elphaba had suggested, for Ama Clutch. She wasn't exactly sure what this entailed, but as long as it shone, was brightly coloured and seemed tasteless to her, she was sure her Ama would love it. She intended to purchase a few decorative items, aside from the candles, but things that wouldn't provoke or offend Nessarose. She had no desire for any conflict. She knew there would be the usual mutterings of oaths against pagan beliefs, but beyond that, she hoped Elphaba really could get her sister to keep her outrage to a minimum.

"Do you still give Nessa a gift?" Glinda asked.

Nanny shook her head, "It isn't worth my darling taking offence. When she was a baby, I did," she smiled slyly, "Her father wouldn't always notice a new toy or plaything by her cradle. Nessie didn't know what she was receiving then, did she? It wouldn't surprise me if she claimed to remember being disgusted, but she played with the toys all the same, yes she did!" she cackled.

"And Elphaba?"

"Says she doesn't believe. I don't doubt her lack of faith, but it doesn't mean she doesn't deserve a little present from someone now and then, does it? Lurline knows her father forgets he has another daughter and not another unpaid nursemaid often enough."

"Has she ever been given something beautiful?" she questioned.

Nanny paused, "It depends on what you mean beautiful to be. She hasn't had much, our Elphie, but she gets by. I don't think she'd have it any other way."

"…Stubborn," Glinda murmured, musing aloud.

"About as stubborn as yourself," the elder of the two winked. Her expression sobered, "No, if we're talking beautiful things that Elphaba has received, then I suppose we should mention dear Nessa."

"Nessa?"

"They might not see eye to eye on most of the things in this world, but Elphie would be a very different girl today if it wasn't for her sister. She was a little hellion before Nessa. One day, Melena, that was their mother, parked a screaming Nessie in Elphaba's arms and it was like magic. My darling stopped screaming and Elphie suddenly became this responsible little person! She always wanted to hold her after that," Nanny laughed, a wheezing sound somewhere between a cough and a gasp, "And her still a toddler! Imagine!"

"She's devoted to her," Glinda said softly, almost jealously.

Nanny wasn't slow to pick up on this, "Now, my beauty, don't you fret. I'd wager Elphaba cares a great deal more for you than she lets on. It's her way. I've never seen her take to anyone like she's taken to you, and trust an old woman's word. She rarely cares for people, but she cares for you."

She was suitably chastised by the old ward. Glinda stared down at the floor, pretending great concentration on where she was placing her feet.

"Now, now, Nanny wasn't preaching," she assured her, "And, you mind, if we're still on the topic of beautiful things and Elphie, then you should count yourself amongst them. And you with far more of a choice than Nessarose."

The girl smiled slightly and bobbed her head, feeling a little more secure. She wasn't quite sure how Elphaba could make her feel so out of sorts, when she had previously been a person so sure of herself and of the world around her. The smile suddenly faded.

"But…we're not objects…and she'd never think of us as hers…" Glinda uttered, "Never, never."

"That doesn't mean you _can't_ be hers though, does it dearie? Even if she never realises it."

Glinda was lost in silence for the rest of the journey. She nodded or shook her head absently to any questions asked her and eventually only broke her silence when they reached a suitable vendor and Nanny requested her opinion on which candles to purchase.

-

"You can't be serious," Nessarose didn't seem remotely outraged, only incredulous, a hint of laughter in her voice.

"I'm deadly serious, Nessie, and if you make those couple of days unbearable for her then she might not speak to you ever again," the silent threat that _she_ might not speak to her sister for a good while hung in air, as Elphaba glanced at the girl propped against her shoulder.

"You, who claim not to believe in anything, not even the Unnamed God, are going to let Glinda-"

"It's not a case of letting her. She isn't going to do anything outrageous. She hasn't been home at all this year-"

"Neither have we!"

"You've only been here a few short months, dearest. I, and she, have been here all year without a break. I don't have any desire for rest and relaxation, but we have to understand that Glinda, and even Nanny, do," Elphaba tried to explain.

"You're afraid she'll hate you if you don't let her carry on with that ridiculous holiday," Nessa stated.

She hesitated, eyes narrowed, and glared coldly at her sister, "She can hate me all she likes, why-ever she likes. But I will not have whatever chance she has at a holiday ruined, understand?"

"Those with faith in the-"

"Nessa," Elphaba interrupted, voice harsh, "I love you, you know that, and I will never stop loving you, but Glinda doesn't have to appreciate you the way Nanny and I do. She lets you have your Unnamed God, even if she doesn't believe, so let her have her Lurlinemas."

Nessa sighed deeply, "She truly has faith in Lurline? I've seen no evidence for it. If she had-"

"It doesn't matter whether she has faith in Lurline or not. It doesn't matter if the stupid holiday is an overrated excuse for a party, but she believes in it and is going to have a Lurlinemas of some sort, you hear?"

"But if she-"

"Nessa."

She sighed again, "I suppose we must all make sacrifices when in the company of unbelievers," she tilted her head, looking up at her sister, "Would you turn the page, please?"

Elphaba dutifully reached out to turn the page.

"I will pray for her soul."

She held her tongue for once and returned to her own book.

-

"Miss Glinda!"

Glinda almost jumped at the sound of Madame Morrible's voice booming down the empty corridor. She and Nanny had just stepped inside, and she was in the process of trying to delicately shake as much snow off her boots and coat as she could without making a mess or giant puddle on the floor.

"Headmistress," she greeted, keeping her tone polite.

"Shopping once again, I see? I was most sorry to hear you wouldn't be returning home for the holidays."

"We'll take care of her as good as family, never anyone mind," Nanny nodded.

"Of course. I don't doubt the company of the Misses Nessarose and Elphaba will be incredibly…stimulating…" Morrible was unable to keep the hint of sarcasm from her voice.

Glinda decided to ignore that remark, not wishing any of her own previous comments about her roommate to be aired in the company of Nanny. She rather regretted them and didn't fancy the prospect of hearing whatever cruel words she remembered uttering again, "Madame Morrible, I wonder if I might arrange a suitable time for tomorrow, Lurlinemas Eve, to visit my dear Ama?" she dove straight in, before she could take the coward's way and not mention it at all.

Morrible hesitated only a moment, "Why, of course, Miss Glinda. I'm sure she would be grateful for the company."

"And Miss Elphaba too."

"…And Miss Elphaba too," the Headmistress echoed, sounding rather unimpressed.

"How lovely. Now that's settled, I'm sure you'll update us soon with a time when we can see the poor woman," Nanny began to urge Glinda down the corridor before the head could make any scathing comments either of them would take great offence to.

"Of course, of course, before the day is out," Morrible waved them on. Despite her misgivings, she supposed there would be little harm in the girls seeing the old minder together, as long as she was to remain in the room too. Yes, that would be a condition of their visit. To take care of the Ama, of course. Certainly. She was well aware that Elphaba often snuck in to see Ama Clutch, and whilst it was more to her advantage to pretend she didn't notice, she didn't savour the prospect of what might happen if both girls had even five minutes with the woman alone.

"Nanny, what are you-" Glinda hissed in protest as she was herded along the corridor.

"Never you mind," Nanny responded, "The less time you spend in the company of that woman, the better, I say. Poisonous old-"

"Nanny! She'll hear you!"

"Better if she does. Maybe then she'll stop thinking she's higher class than the Ozma child herself…"

Glinda nudged the old woman in the side, only to be swatted back, before they composed themselves and made their way relatively quietly back to the corridors of the private rooms.

"You survived the snow, I see," was Elphaba's first comment as they made their way inside.

"You almost sound as if you wish we hadn't," Glinda replied, in a teasing voice.

"I suppose there would be more room if you hadn't," the green girl mused, trace of a smile on her face.

Nanny frowned, glancing around the room, "I hadn't thought. We aren't going to burn this old place to cinders with these candles, are we?"

Nessa looked up from her book, "I should hope not."

"Well," Elphaba gently steadied Nessarose and clambered down from her bed, "I'm off to claim a couple more books from the library. I'll be back soon," she headed for the door.

"Do you ever stop studying, my girl?" Nanny asked.

"Sometimes. When it suits me," now she did smile as she vanished from the room, "Do try not to burn the university down!"

"We make no promises!" Glinda laughed a little under her breath, sharing a sly glance with Nanny.

Nessa's lips thinned into a harsh line as she looked back down at her book. Annoyed, she realised she had already read the two pages in front of her. Head down, she flicked her eyes back up at Nanny and Glinda, who didn't notice her actions. Frustrated, and just a little bit bitter, she stubbornly began to reread the pages. She wasn't about to ask for their help when they were in such a childish mood. Perhaps she wouldn't pray for their souls quite as fervently as she had planned.

-

One of the good things about not making it home to her father, Elphaba found, was that the library was abandoned and all books had recently been recalled from various students, which left most of its catalogue for her to peruse.

If she was honest…really honest, which, despite her tendency to be a loudmouth, was a rare occurrence, she was secretly quite pleased that she didn't have to make the long trek home on various modes of transportation just for what was essentially a long weekend break. A week's holiday was hardly a week when taking travelling into account. It wasn't so much the trek that bothered her, but the fact that, for the days she was home, she would have had to cease to be her own person and be the young woman her father expected. Shiz meant freedom to her. She could study what she liked, when and why she liked, without fear of reproach. She was Elphaba, a person, a girl, an individual, hated, despised or not, she was her own person.

Besides, she could put up with a little holiday cheer from Glinda and Nanny far better than she could tolerate two days of religious ravings by her father and sister. She sometimes wondered why she had never taken to religion. Why Nessa and not her? They were just as damaged as each other. Why had she shunned it and Nessa embraced it? Perhaps because her little sister had been embraced and she had been shunned. No…maybe that was a little harsh…her father did love her…tried to love her.

Elphaba remembered, well, perhaps not remembered exactly, but recalled, a time when she felt her father loved her. Little flashbacks from her very early years, brief moments where he did smile at her and hold her, where it was he who sat with her and not Nanny. Before Nessa. She didn't like to think of her mother. In her mind, her mother was just another figure, another member of their household. She didn't remember her mother being particularly maternal towards her. She couldn't ever recall being in her mother's arms. She remembered Nessa was carried sometimes, by a woman with a vacant expression who didn't focus on the child she held. Perhaps it was better that way, she thought, not to have had any particularly strong feelings towards her mother. At least that way she had nothing to miss. In some moments of reflection she couldn't blame her mother for being so distant. To give birth to two daughters with their afflictions as they were…sometimes she almost felt sorry her mother never saw Shell.

She knew Glinda adored her parents. Sometimes she wondered whether she really adored them as family or adored the lifestyle they gave her. But then, she supposed, those thoughts had been directed toward _Galinda_, not Glinda. _Galinda_ had been ashamed of staying at Shiz for some of the summer holidays, before her trip with the other society girls, but maybe that had been a front. Maybe she really had missed her parents, and whatever family she had back in the Pertha Hills.

Elphaba frowned. It struck her she knew next to nothing about Glinda's family. They had money, for certain. Perhaps not an inexhaustible supply, but enough to make their daughter shine. A mansion at least, she supposed. Perhaps a summer home. Maybe two mansions. She really didn't know. She realised she had assumed that Glinda's family were born to money and had never worked a day in their lives. Maybe they worked particularly hard. No…that was too much of a stretch. A family with a solid work ethic could not have produced a young lady who hid behind fans and dresses and didn't know her own worth besides how she looked against a pretty background.

Maybe Glinda's relationship with her parents was just as dysfunctional as her own relationship with her father and sister. However she tried, she couldn't class Nanny with Nessarose and Frex. Nanny had always tried, always been her champion, even when the child in her arms had terrified and repulsed her.

Elphaba stepped down from the ladder she was precariously balanced on, bringing two books with her. She paced steadily across to a table and sat down, opening one of the books wearily.

She tried to concentrate on the words, usually such an easy, and desirable, task, but all her mind did was wander. Why was Glinda at Shiz? To be seen? To say she had been? Glinda wasn't the most gifted student. She was developing a knack for sorcery, something which made Elphaba smile, because it seemed sorcery gave Glinda a sense of purpose where she had been lacking before. What did she intend to do after Shiz? She wasn't so sure their paths would cross again after university. She didn't like that prospect. Not that she would state such feelings or complain about them.

She wondered if Nessie was the one to believe in Lurline, would she be as accommodating? Or would she be spiteful and not let her sister celebrate in any shape or form? Was it because it was Glinda that she was allowing herself to acknowledge the day as something different from any other?

Maybe Nessa was right. Maybe she was afraid that Glinda would hate her. The petite Gillikinese was the first person ever to feel remotely obligated to her outside her family. Half the time even her family didn't have such feelings towards her. But she had said much harsher things to both Galinda and Glinda in the past without fear of reproach. Perhaps she just wanted Glinda to be happy.

The thought unnerved her. Elphaba never usually went out of her way to make anyone happy.

She hated religion. She really did. Ridiculous feast days. How in the hell did the self reflective nature of such events work on those who didn't believe?

-

A knock on the door that evening alerted the girls to a presence at the door. About to call for them to enter, Elphaba was rather annoyed, but not at all surprised, when Madame Morrible simply barged in without permission.

"Miss Glinda," the Headmistress called.

Elphaba noted the woman still said her roommate's 'new' name with a certain amount of scorn. Clearly she thought it was a phase 'Glinda' would grow out of.

"Madame Morrible," Glinda slid carefully from the end of her bed and stood to address the head.

"You may visit your Ama between two and three in the afternoon tomorrow, if such a time is suitable?"

"Yes, thank you Madame," she bobbed her head.

"I must inform you that Ama Clutch is still in quite a disorientated state… I am the only person so far to be able to make her respond with any sense… Therefore I believe that it would be best if I remain with you, for her sake, and yours."

"She would never hurt Glinda," Elphaba stated from across the room.

Nanny poked her head round the door that joined the small room she shared with Nessarose to the elder girls', "What's this I hear? Visitations?"

"Miss Glinda and Miss Elphaba may visit Ama Clutch tomorrow between two and three," Morrible replied.

"There's nice," she didn't sound quite convinced.

"I will remain with them."

"…How…considerate…"

"The safety of my students is one of my top priorities," the Headmistress preened.

Nanny raised an eyebrow, "That may be, but I doubt a bedridden woman is going to do them any great harm."

"I will not risk their safety," Morrible answered, "It is the condition of their visit."

"Well-"

"Nanny, it's okay," Glinda said, "Between two and three?"

"Be prompt," she swept from the room, the layers of her skirt dragging along the ground after the click of her stubby heels. The door slammed behind her.

Glinda turned to face curious stares from both Elphaba and Nanny, "What? It's better than nothing! I have to see her, and if it's the only way…"

"Only way, my foot…" Nanny muttered.

"What do you suggest? That we break in?"

Elphaba blinked, "Well…"

"I would prefer not to be thrown out of Shiz before my three years are up," Glinda said, "I can't fight the Headmistress if I have any hope of getting through these years without a black mark against my name. She's high society, no matter what you think, and I don't doubt we'll all encounter her again at some point during our lives and careers. She's not obliged to say anything pleasing about any one of us. If it's the only way to see Ama Clutch, then I'll take the opportunity," she sat back down on the edge of her bed, "…I'm sorry," she murmured, "But I can't…I won't take any risks whilst Ama Clutch is in her care."

Elphaba jumped down from her bed and moved to stoke the fire, making the flames leap back up, "No. I suppose you're right. Any false move could backfire on Ama Clutch as well as us." She didn't care so much for her own reputation, but she had no intention of risking the life of Glinda's Ama. Considering the suspicious death of Doctor Dillamond…there was no telling what could happen to the poor woman whilst out of their sight.

Glinda stared deep into the fire before changing the subject completely, "Do you like the candles?" she asked, a little too brightly.

Her friend studied the tall arrangements beneath their window and at the far edges of the fire, all of which were unlit, as of yet, "…They are attractive, I suppose," she conceded. She could still find something aesthetically pleasing even if she didn't quite comprehend the meaning behind it. Elphaba mulled that over. Perhaps she couldn't find religion because she didn't understand it.

"Gold and green," Nanny nodded, "The traditional colours. Some doddering fool tried to convince us that red was the new colour for Lurlinemas, but he just had a surplus he was trying to shift."

"Nanny, where are my shoes?" Nessa called, in an anxious tone. Startled awake from a nap, she suddenly felt their absence.

Elphaba crossed back to her bed and pulled one glittering shoe from just underneath her bed, then got on her knees to rummage around for the other, "Here, Nessa," she answered. She remembered her sister had slipped them off to sit comfortably on the bed whilst they read earlier, and, having been huddled against the cold in her own bed for most of the day, had had no need for them until that moment. Elphaba paused, turning the shoes this way and that, to catch the light of the fire. She could see why Nessa adored them. She shivered, disturbed at the thought, and quickly handed them to Nanny.

"Elphaba?" Nessa called, impatient.

"Nanny has your shoes, dear one, Nanny has them," she shuffled off back to her youngest charge.

Glinda shivered as if the reaction were catching, a little uncomfortable with the look in Elphaba's eyes as she gazed into the fire again, "…Would you wear them?" she asked softly.

The green girl looked up, a question in her gaze, "Whatever do you mean?"

"The shoes. If they were yours," she whispered, "Would you wear them?"

No, was the reply that presented itself first. She didn't wear pretty things. Certainly nothing as showy as those shoes. But that wasn't why Nessa wore them. Would she behave in the same manner if they were hers? If she were their father's pet, would she want it plain to see to the whole world? If she had been the adored daughter she wouldn't be the woman she was today, therefore the shoes wouldn't be an issue, making the point moot. She didn't know. Elphaba sighed. There was just something about those damned shoes… Or maybe just about the fact that they had not been gifted to her.

"They're not mine," Elphaba stated, eyes a little glazed over, "So it's not an issue."

"But-"

"No, Glinda. It's not worth it," she said, keeping her voice low, "…It's not worth it," she repeated, more to herself than her roommate. She stretched, "You haven't put the rest of your decorations up yet."

"No…I suppose I should," Glinda looked away and paced slowly to find the bag with the decorations in.

Elphaba retreated to her bed and sat down. She tucked her feet beneath her and stretched across the mattress like a cat, closing her eyes. She absently watched her friend string subtle chains of green and gold where she could reach and closed her eyes when Glinda set a small candle down on her bedside table, just so she wouldn't have to protest. She had few objections to the candles, though she knew a scathing comment would be expected of her. She was suddenly exhausted and couldn't be bothered to summon the energy for verbal conflict.

Once she was finished with the decorations, Glinda turned to her roommate to ask her opinion, but the question died in her throat as she saw an unmoving green tangle of limbs stretched far too elegantly across the bed. Eyes closed and breathing shallow, Elphaba could have almost been mistaken for a statue. Glinda slipped off her heels so as not to make any more noise, knowing Elphie was a light sleeper. Half the time she wondered if the girl truly slept at night or merely closed her eyes and pretended. She hopped up onto her bed and slumped back against the pillows, scrabbling around for a book of fairytales she had set on her nightstand.

She knew what Elphaba's response to the book would have been. That myths and fairytales, religion and fables, were all methods of controlling society. Nobody truly knew what went on in the world, during life or after. Glinda frowned, wondering if that truly was a thought of Elphaba's, or a thought of her own. Or an assumption. She didn't like debates on religion. They made her uncomfortable and only served to confuse her. Sometimes she thought it would be much better if someone told her what to think and didn't give her a choice. Maybe that was why Elphaba was so outspoken on so many issues; people had been trying to tell her what to think for years. Maybe she, Glinda, didn't truly appreciate the fact that nobody had tried to programme her beyond what colours went with which and what behaviour was appropriate for each situation.

Nanny found both girls fast asleep, still fully dressed, just over an hour later. Elphaba still sprawled across her bed and Glinda slumped with a half-open book on her chest. She tugged their blankets up around them and carefully poured water on the fire to settle it before she too decided it was time to turn in.

-

"Glinda, wake up, this is the lighting of your candles you're missing."

A balled up stocking hit her clear in the face as she opened her eyes, still groggy from sleep. She mumbled an incoherent question and sat up, keeping her blanket tucked tight around her against the winter chill. She noticed Elphaba still in her bed, the fire just starting up, and Nanny poised before the first set of candles.

It was clearly Elphaba who had thrown the missile, since she held her other stocking in a state of readiness.

"I'm awake, I'm awake," Glinda murmured. She blinked, "What time is it?"

"Almost noon," Nanny said.

"So late?"

"There're no classes and it's a holiday, you get to sleep in."

She blinked, "Thank you."

"No favours granted, dearie, Nanny wanted a rest too! Do you want to light them?" she asked, gesturing to the candles.

"I never get to light them at home," Glinda replied, a little confused. She had always wanted to light them as a girl, but now it was something done almost behind the scenes. The candles were just magically lit whenever she first laid eyes on them on Lurlinemas Eve.

"Now's your chance," Elphaba commented, not quite encouraging her.

She slipped from her bed, shivering against the cold, her dress crumpled and creased. Glinda yawed and dragged a hand through her dishevelled curls as she padded across the room, trying not to cringe as her feet hit the frozen flooring. She smiled slightly and took the taper Nanny offered, holding it into the fire briefly, before she lit the first of the candles. They were half the size of the ones she usually had at home, but, considering it wasn't safe to leave them lit for two days at the university, it didn't matter greatly. Glinda lit a second and third candle, then handed the taper back to Nanny so she could light the fourth.

"What did you buy Ama Clutch?" Elphaba questioned.

Glinda's expression darkened a little, "…A gaudy bauble, like you suggested. I don't know what she'll make of it."

"Whether she makes anything of it or not, you'd better not let on to Morrible that you have a present for your Ama. She'd probably try and confiscate it, knowing her. Don't reveal it until we're in the room. If Ama Clutch reacts to it, she can hardly deprive her of a gift."

"A good suggestion," Nanny agreed, "Though I still don't understand why the woman needs to accompany you."

"Nor do I, entirely. She doesn't trust us. She doesn't trust _me_," Elphaba answered.

"Because we know Ama knows something," Glinda said softly, "We can't know what she knows. She's hiding something."

She frowned, "You know this and you don't want to find it out?"

"No. Not right now. I just want to visit, give Ama Clutch her Lurlinemas gift, and be done with it."

"With the Head there, there's not much chance of anything else happening anyway," Nanny muttered.

-

Elphaba threw back her covers and clambered from her bed, "We'd best make ourselves presentable before Morrible decides to arrive before we're ready."

"We've hours yet," Glinda said.

"You can never be too prepared with that woman on the prowl," Nanny stoked the fire, trying to encourage it to burn brighter. She tilted her head as she heard Nessa's sleepy voice calling for assistance, "Nanny's here, Nessie," she replied. She headed back into their room and closed the door to give Nessarose some privacy.

Elphaba wandered across the room to rummage in the wardrobe, pulling out, as usual, another shapeless dress in black. She retrieved her other stocking from Glinda's bed, snatched a small bag of toiletries from her own nightstand, and headed for the facilities.

Glinda sat down on the floor a little way away from the candles, skirts of her dress spreading out around her. What would she have been doing now if she were at home? Making mindless small-talk with some visiting member of the family she pretended to know but had no recollection of. Being a good little girl. Being Galinda. She drew her knees to her chest and gazed up at the candles. She wasn't sure her parents would like the new 'Glinda'. Not that that mattered now. She smiled slightly and closed her eyes, resting her chin on her knees. Maybe spending these days at Shiz wasn't so bad after all. She didn't have to hold her tongue and she didn't have to dress exactly as her mother ordered, not a stray blonde curl out of place. Her mother was beautiful. A vision in emerald every Lurlinemas. Glinda had tried to emulate her every year but never quite achieved the same effect.

She'd almost nodded off back to sleep when Elphaba emerged from the bathroom. She opened her eyes as the girl paused to peer down at her in the glow of the candles and the fire, "…What?"

A slight smile curved the edge of her lips, "You look like one of the lost fairy folk with that light and all rumpled like that. You belong in a Lurlinemas greeting sketch."

Glinda frowned, not sure whether to be offended or not.

"I meant nothing bad by it, before you start. I'd say it was a rather fetching look, but then, what do I know of beauty?" Elphaba continued across the room and sat on the edge of her bed.

She almost blushed, for the compliment and guilt of thinking the words were something cruel. Glinda stood and searched around in the wardrobe, finding suitable attire, and vanished into the bathroom.

-

"Will she know who I am?"

"Ama Clutch?"

Glinda nodded.

Elphaba looked over the rim of the mug of tea she had sneaked out of the refectory, "…I don't know," she replied, honestly.

"Is it an illness of her mind or of her body?" Nessa questioned. She was sat beside Glinda, the two side by side at the head of the bed, leaning against the headboard.

"It seems to affect both, but I'd say it's of her mind," Elphaba said.

Glinda remained silent. She said nothing of the disease actually being of _her_ mind and inflicted on Ama Clutch.

"Nobody has tried to cure her? She has been given no spiritual guidance?" the younger Thropp pressed.

"We don't know," her sister answered, "Madame Morrible has her in the Infirmary. She may have had physicians visit, she may not. Considering the circumstances…I'd say not. As for spiritual guidance, unless you want a show of the Pleasure Faith…"

Nessa recoiled, "Perhaps that is the reason."

Glinda glanced at her, unsure how to respond. She felt compelled to defend her Ama's honour, but, the truth was, Ama Clutch could have been seen to have sinned in the eyes of every religion in Oz. So could they all, she supposed. Her Ama had always been up for a laugh and a giggle, a good time, whenever she could. But she had been her minder, almost closer to her than her parents, for all the days she could remember. She lowered her eyes, "Perhaps," she said.

"Perhaps my believing she knows I'm there is wishful thinking. She doesn't know who I am, Glinda," Elphaba warned, "Though I suppose you might have a greater impact on her. She's only known me for a little over a year."

"Will she be wanting anything?" Nanny asked.

"Morrible has her provided for. She's bedridden. She's not starving to death either. She's harmless in the state she is now."

Nessa's features twisted and she lowered her head, staring down into her lap. She was wearing a long dress of deep red that day, mostly to be contrary, though she did like the colour. She didn't like the sudden vision she had had of a possible version of her future. Abandoned in a room, in a bed, with nobody to assist her. To waste away all alone. Calling and calling and nobody to answer. Would it be worse to lose her mobility or lose her mind? She wasn't quite sure. Without assistance, she wasn't quite mobile anyway. But to lose her mind? She shivered, offering up thanks to the Unnamed God that, even though he had seen fit not to provide her with arms, he had ensured she still had her faculties. She had heard stories of babies born like herself who were severely slow-minded as well as physically handicapped. She was one of the lucky ones.

"Did she celebrate Lurlinemas?" Elphaba enquired.

Glinda had to smile at that, "Yes. She had great fun. Overeating and dancing and singing. I'd say it was her favourite time of year. One giant party and no reproach."

"Maybe you could sing for her."

"You're the singer of all of us," she answered gently.

"Elphaba doesn't know any Lurlinemas songs," Nessa said.

"Elphaba can answer for herself," the girl in question countered, "But no, I don't, beyond a melody or two. Since I don't believe, it would be hypocritical of me… Nanny?"

"Nanny's singing days are over," the old woman smiled, "Song might confuse the Ama anyway."

Any reply was interrupted by a knock at the door. Not one of the women in the room bothered to respond, knowing the Headmistress would just barge in anyway. Which she did.

"Miss Glinda, Miss Elphaba, you may follow me," Madame Morrible didn't seem to be in the highest of spirits.

Glinda wondered why she hadn't thought to wonder if Morrible had any family she would rather be visiting than minding the stray girls at Crage Hall. She shuddered. The thought of any family similar to the fish-like woman wasn't a pleasant thought. She bobbed her head, steadying Nessa so she wouldn't topple as her weight left the bed. She stood and brushed her white dress off, glancing back for Elphaba's company.

"Tell her I will pray for her," Nessa said, in an usually quiet voice.

Glinda nodded, whilst Elphaba's eyebrows knit together for a moment, more worried by the tone of her sister's voice than the comment. Usually it would have been said in rather a condescending manner.

"Come along, girls," Morrible called, already out in the corridor.

Glinda hurried after her, heels clicking.

Elphaba reached to close the door behind them and followed at a more leisurely pace. A few steps later, she doubled her pace to catch up with her roommate, "Gift?" she murmured.

"Pocket," Glinda whispered.

She nodded.

The journey to the Infirmary was made in complete silence, without any attempts at small talk by Madame Morrible. She merely led the way and didn't so much as glance back at the girls in her 'care'. She had seen the Lurlinemas candles beside the fire on peering into the girls' room. A patronising smile quirked at her lips. How quaint.

The Headmistress halted once they reached the main door to the Infirmary, "I must warn you, ladies, she is most changed," she stated.

Elphaba arched a brow and folded her arms across her chest. She was changed, that was for sure, but trying to scare them into thinking Ama Clutch was unrecognisable was uncalled for.

Glinda nodded and curled her hands into fists for a moment, preparing herself.

Morrible swung open the door and headed down aisle between the two rows of empty beds. She stopped at the end of Ama Clutch's bed, as if taking up position as sentry.

The Ama, as it happened, seemed to be fast asleep. Her eyes were closed and her chest rose and fell rhythmically at any rate.

Glinda didn't feel she ought to disturb her…but she had come this far. Avoiding Morrible's gaze, she dragged a nearby chair closer to the bed and sat down. She sighed and gently reached to place a hand on Ama Clutch's shoulder, "Ama Clutch?" she said softly. On receiving no response, she shook the woman a little, "Ama Clutch?"

The patient's eyes opened and she glanced around…unfortunately straight through Glinda.

"Ama Clutch, it's me, it's Galinda."

Elphaba stepped forward, "It's your Galinda come to see you. Elphie too, the green girl, remember?"

"I warned you both," Morrible sniffed, not through upset, but through distaste.

Ama Clutch remained impassive.

"…Try the bauble," Elphaba suggested.

"Bauble?" the Headmistress questioned.

Glinda dragged the item out of her pocket and held it to the light from its chain. It was a simple crystal really, a chunk of rock on a silver chain, but it seemed to shimmer and when it hit the light just-so it seemed to shine and pour out every colour of the rainbow. To her mind, it could probably be tasteful in small doses. Just not with the size of the thing.

"And what makes you so happy that you be beaming such pretty colours?" Ama Clutch asked, her gaze focusing on the crystal.

"I wasn't aware she was to receive a gift," Morrible commented.

"It's Lurlinemas Eve. She always celebrated," Glinda began to explain, "I thought-"

"Yes, well, that must have been terrible for you. But to come through all that and still be here and able to-" the Ama continued to babble.

"It's a gift. No harm done," Elphaba said, reassured by the sudden animated vocals of Ama Clutch, even if they weren't directed towards either her or Glinda.

"Here, Ama, take it," Glinda pressed the crystal into her ward's outstretched hand, "It's yours."

"Now, now, you don't want to be relying on me," she responded, still not acknowledging the blonde behind the gift.

Glinda dropped the rest of the chain across her fingers, "Happy Lurlinemas, Ama Clutch," she said softly. She didn't wait a moment longer, and stood, moving away from the bed, "We can go now," she said, "Thank you for your understanding, Madame Morrible," she bobbed her head. She had no intention of making a scene whilst the headmistress was present.

She wanted to escape. She wanted to get the hell out of there before the reality of everything hit her again and she was forced to acknowledge all that had happened. If she kept busy it was easy not to think about it…but facing her pale faced Ama making conversation with an inanimate object and not even noticing the girl she had taken care of since the young student was little more than a baby…

Elphaba headed off, trying to draw Morrible away, to give Glinda a moment alone with her Ama. She would sneak in again in a couple of days anyway, probably to hear more of the crystal's history and take note of its memoirs. Morrible followed, though not at the pace her student would have liked.

Glinda hesitated at the foot of the bed, "…I'm sorry," she whispered, head lowered, features hidden beneath blonde curls that had fallen forward. She turned abruptly and made to catch up with her companions. It took every bit of her self control not to shove them aside and run for the door and dash straight up back to her room.

Noticing her roommate's shaking frame, Elphaba blindly groped for her hand and tightly caught her fingers with her own. She made no comment and didn't even look at her. Once they were past the door and Morrible turned to address them, she immediately dropped Glinda's hand.

"I apologise if such a scene upset you, but that is the most sense even I can get out of her. I offer her a cup of tea and she speaks with the china. Nobody exists beyond the world of inanimate objects," Madame Morrible said.

Glinda nodded, unable to speak. She knew she wouldn't visit again. Not until…until…well, until it was good and necessary.

"Nanny is expecting us back," Elphaba gave Glinda a little shove at the small of her back to guide her away.

"Yes, of course," Morrible replied.

The two girls left her presence as quickly as they could.

As soon as they were out of sight, the mistress of Crage Hall headed back into the Infirmary to remove the crystal from the Ama's hands. Nothing was ever as harmless as it seemed in Oz these days.

-

"I should tell my parents. I should let them take her home. They are still paying her wages, after all," Glinda said, a good half hour later, back amongst the glow of the fire and Lurlinemas candles.

"And say what? That something has bewitched her?" Elphaba responded.

"I don't know! Just something! Just to get her out of there!"

"If you parents saw the state of your Ama and had any sense, they'd remove you from Shiz. Then what would become of the first sorceress of Frottica?"

Glinda sighed and shook her head, "I don't know."

"I think we have to accept some things are out of our hands…for now," she said.

"For now…" her friend frowned, "Despite what we said, I've a good mind to go back and try and magic her-"

"A nice sentiment, but you're a trainee sorceress who has been known to blow up savoury snacks."

"Elphaba?" Nessarose walked unsteadily into the room, Nanny ready to right her if she fell, "Would you take dictation please? I want to write to Father."

Elphaba nodded and got up from her bed, "Yes, Nessa."

"Well, if I can leave you girls, I'll go see what I can find that's been provided to eat," Nanny parked Nessa in the closest seat and eased her a little closer to the fire, "Tea all round? I doubt there'll be anything stronger, more's the pity," she paused for a moment, "Though I did buy that…yes…we'll see if we can't make tea a little more entertaining."

"And by entertaining you mean poisoning us with some home-brewed moonshine or the like?" Elphaba said in a good natured manner.

"Of course," Nanny continued on her way and closed the door behind her.

Elphaba, having retrieved a sheet of paper and something to write with, settled herself at Nessa's feet, close to the fire with Glinda.

"If I start hiccupping after any moonshine or whatever it will be, muffle me with one of my own pillows?" Glinda smiled slightly.

She returned the smile, "Done."

-

Lurlinemas Eve went by rather smoothly after that. A little tipsy on whatever alcohol Nanny had purchased, Glinda sang some Lurlinemas carols with her, which Elphaba seemed to find amusing. After a few rounds of a chorus (and a great deal of pleading) she deigned to supply a wordless harmony. Nessa managed not to make any harsh comments, though this also meant she refrained from commenting at all, and spent a few hours lost in prayer whilst the semi-inebriated gaiety went on around her. Elphaba stayed by her side for most of the day, as if she felt somewhat guilty for allowing even a shred of Lurlinemas spirit to get in through the door. She supposed Glinda and Nanny would have carried on with or without their blessing, but she knew her sister blamed her for having to endure it.

However, a couple of cups of infused tea later, even Nessarose Thropp managed a brief smile at the antics of Nanny and Glinda, holiday related or not.

-

"Elphaba?"

"…Elphaba?"

"_Elphaba…_?_"_

"…Glinda of the Arduennas?" a sleepy, disgruntled, voice finally replied.

"Are you awake?" Glinda questioned, keeping her voice low, despite the fact that there was no good reason any longer.

"No."

"Oh…" she narrowed her eyes, "Yes you are," she stated.

"Very observant of you for this time in the morning," Elphaba shifted onto her side, trying to make out the figure of her roommate in dawn light, "What is it?"

"I can't sleep."

"You were one of those annoying children who insisted on waking the household at three in the morning to hunt for and rip open their presents, weren't you?"

Glinda smiled, "Who said anything about that phase passing?"

A snort that could have been annoyance or laughter greeted her ears.

"No, seriously, it's not that. I'm cold," she insisted.

"Need I remind you there are no presents here?" Elphaba asked.

"I'm not after presents, I'm cold!"

She scooted over in her bed and held open the covers, "Come here then," she affected a long sigh, as if she were very much put out by the whole thing. Elphaba frowned when she heard a rustling and then the padding of feet across wooden floorboards, before a surprisingly warm (for someone who had just stated they were cold) body clambered into bed beside her.

"Happy Lurlinemas."

A parcel landed on top of the duvet, in her lap. Elphaba stared, between the parcel and the blonde, "…Glinda, I told you…"

"I know you told me. Whether you believe or not, does it mean you can't accept gifts? Can't you think that I'm giving you a present because I want to and not because I feel obligated to because of some religious holiday?"

"A holiday you believe in."

Glinda sighed, "If it makes you feel any better, I didn't get your presents specifically for Lurlinemas. I would have given them to you anyway. Now just seemed like an appropriate time. Somebody should get gifts, and if it's not going to be me and certainly not Nessa, then-"

"Thank you," Elphaba said quietly, a little stunned.

"You're welcome."

She sat up a little against the headboard, Glinda shuffling closer to her for warmth.

Elphaba tugged on the bow of the parcel until she could unfold the paper and reveal the contents. A dark blue shawl and black gloves sat in the centre of the paper, neatly folded and presented.

"I thought they'd be practical," Glinda uttered, driven to provide an explanation.

She lay a hand on the shawl and traced the outline of one of the gloves with one finger, "Thank you, Glinda," she repeated. Elphaba frowned as she felt another object beneath the glove and gently pulled it out.

"…I thought that would be less practical…"

It was a broach. A small, plain, musical note, that seemed silver in some light, but sapphire in another, as she held it up to catch the morning light.

"Because you sing. Or you can. Much better than I do…or anyone I know, come to think of it. You should sing," Glinda babbled, uncertain of herself.

She had lied about the presents. The shawl and the gloves she had already had, in the hidden box of presents, and she supposed they were as perfect for Elphaba as they had been for whoever she had intended them for. But the broach she had bought on her trip with Nanny. Something beautiful. Something small. Something plain, simple, and meaningful. Something she hoped wouldn't offend.

Elphaba wasn't quite sure how to react. She didn't sing for herself. She didn't sing when she was happy. She wasn't one of those girls who went around humming under their breath because all was right with the world. She had sung for her father when she was little because it pleased him, sometimes it made him smile…it was something she could do and be acknowledged for…so she wasn't the green girl for a moment and was just his eldest daughter. Elphaba never sang for herself. Only when it was requested of her. Only under duress.

A green hand brushed blonde ringlets away from Glinda's eyes and a kiss was pressed to her forehead. Elphaba said nothing.

They sat in silence for several minutes, huddling together for warmth, the opened parcel still in Elphaba's lap.

"I'm sorry you're stuck here for Lurlinemas and you didn't get your week at home with your family."

Glinda twitched her shoulders in a half-hearted shrug, "What would I have done that I haven't done here anyway?"

"Had presents? Better company? I'm sorry I don't have anything for you. Last year-"

"Last year?" she interrupted.

Elphaba almost looked uncomfortable, "That white flower."

Glinda blinked, "That was… That was from you?"

"You thought some silly boy had snuck in and left it? We barely spoke. I must have thought it would be some kind of peace offering."

She smiled slightly, "I took it home with me. I wore it in my hair on the trip back. It matched my outfit," she nudged her companion, "So I guess we're even. Wherever did you find such a flower in winter?"

Now Elphaba shrugged, "A winter variety. You can get anything in town if you search long enough."

"Thank you. Belatedly."

She bobbed her head, not making eye contact, "I expect your parents miss you," she said.

Glinda exhaled slowly, "They'll have my cousins and my aunts and uncles and grandparents, dear Oz, every Arduenna in the area. My mother's side," she explained, "It's tradition. My father…" she paused, "Well, they say my father's family aren't from such good stock as my mother. The Arduennas might not have much power, but they do have money and they do like to flaunt the name. _We_ do," she corrected.

"Why did they let your mother and father marry if they deem him inferior to their bloodline?" Elphaba asked.

"I'm not entirely certain. I think my mother may have threatened to run off with him and ruin her family name. I suppose they would rather have had inferior blood in the family than lose a daughter of the Arduennas. It doesn't matter either way. She's an Arduenna and so am I," she smiled, "She's beautiful, my mother…I wish I had that kind of beauty sometimes. Effortless."

"You have a mind, dear Glinda, and that's beauty enough," Elphaba commented. She set the broach back amongst the shawl and gloves, "I sometimes thought my mother would have been beautiful once. She was high born, she was a lady, according to Nanny, before my father. All I ever saw of her was a doped up young woman too stressed out and drunk to care whether she was beautiful or not anymore. Sometimes she wondered what the hell she was doing. You could see it in her eyes."

"Mothers have their faults. Yours and mine."

"As do their daughters," Elphaba said. She folded the parcel back up, "Set this on my nightstand, would you?"

Glinda nodded and did so. She felt more of the single pillow on the bed shifted her way and looked a little confused.

"We'd better get some more sleep. Who knows what Nanny has planned for today that we're completely oblivious to?"

She thought she would be returning to her own bed, but more of the duvet was offered her as Elphaba lay back down. Glinda slid down and underneath the duvet, suddenly, genuinely, cold. She shivered and felt an arm hook round her waist and draw her closer, tucking her beneath Elphaba's chin. She closed her eyes.

"…I'd be alone at home, you know…" Glinda admitted, voice a whisper.

"Sleep," Elphaba quietly responded.

She did.

Elphie didn't.

Elphaba never wore the broach. But years later, when the Witch was melted and the cloak and broom taken from the scene of the crime, nobody noticed a glint of silver in the corner of the room where it had tumbled, a reminder of the trials of youth and of friendship.

**Fin**


End file.
